


salt and scalding

by hoerondales



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Multi, Oneshot, Pining, Self-Indulgent, Short, Simon Snow - Freeform, Simon snow by Gemma T. Leslie, SnowBaz, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch - Freeform, agatha and baz kiss but baz couldn't care less, agatha has an unrequited crush, baz grimm-pitch - Freeform, baz is a closeted vampire, baz is definitely gay, baz is generally confused, baz is obsessed with simon's moles, baz is pining after simon, baz is still basically canon, baz is very gay for simon, baz refuses to call simon by his first name, canonverse, carry on, garlic won't hurt him, literally just baz being whiny, simon is basically canon, simon is hopeless as always, simon is oblivious as always, simon is probably queer, vampire, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 17:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10223336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoerondales/pseuds/hoerondales
Summary: baz is always hungry (and not just for blood).





	

**Author's Note:**

> hi there! i still don't know what to write in the notes but i guess if you've read the tags you'll know what's going to happen.
> 
> i wrote this in a few hours so the editing was minimal.
> 
> i have no beta.
> 
> this was ridiculously self indulgent.
> 
> \--hoerondales

baz isn't sure how he feels, alone in the dark (with simon ((does that count?)). it's cold in their room; snow insists on leaving the windows open at night and baz has to pile old blankets across his duvet to retain a semblance of heat. snow, on the other hand, is sprawled over his sheets, and baz can smell his magic leaking into the air: a potent mixture of cloves and burning oranges.

baz wonders if anyone else can smell simon snow like he can. it sometimes makes him woozy, like he's high on (simon's) magic.

it's harder like this, especially when it's dark, for him to restrain himself. he feels it, a dark greedy wanting in the pit of his stomach, clawing up his throat. baz is hungry-- but he's always hungry and anyway, hunger leads to blood and blood leads to guilt, so he pushes it deeper, swallows down the taste of the smell of (simon) snow and hopes that that's enough.

(it's never enough, he always wants more ((of what?))

\---

and then it's morning-- the sunset rolling over the silhouette of the forest and somehow, he's slept through the night.

snow is still asleep, and baz scolds himself for thinking the dark was the reason he let himself loose, because now something inside him (his heart, maybe ((he isn't sure if it beats)) clenches as he looks over at snow and his breath hitches. he wonders how many moles he has, indulgently-- still drowsy-- half-asleep as his eyes skim over the ones on his face. there are two below his left eye and three across his jawline and baz wants to press his lips to them all.

though the sun has risen, it's still early-- too early to get up so baz reasons that it isn't wrong to stare at snow (simon) for just a little longer.

(he likes simon's hair ((too much, probably)) it's honey and brown at the same time and the curls tumble over his freckled ears and down his neck ((baz wonders if his blood would taste like his magic smells, heady and intoxicating)) before twisting upwards)

a few hours later and snow wakes, eyes peeling open and darting to the fully clothed baz before setting themselves into a glare. baz takes this as his cue to leave as snow slides off his bed and grabs his clothes, not once turning his back.

\---

the rest of the day goes by in a blur of classes, magic and the residual smell of burning oranges. snow fumbles with his wand, setting small fires from across the classroom and baz smirks provokingly, mouth razor sharp and facade moulded. he knows this is the only way that simon snow will ever see him: tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch; arch nemesis and scathing roommate.

(he doesn't want this, this cleft between them. ((baz is always hungry, but now he's hungry for more than blood))

but it's during magic theory (a class baz excels in) that he realises. when simon glances over (he thinks baz isn't looking back ((when isn't he?)) and baz sees fear. it isn't prominent, but it is there.

he remembers back to when snow first guessed he was a vampire. garlic cloves were always scattered around their room, which he scoffed at. vampires weren't affected by garlic (after that, he made a point to pick up the garlic bread in the hall, and eat it in front of simon)  
but that doesn't mean that snow wasn't deterred. a few days after the garlic bread, baz found a thin stream of salt around snow's bed. (he'd always wondered why simon did that, until agatha wellbelove told him it was to ward away evil ((she then kissed him, and he remembered she tasted of lemons, and flowers; bitter in his mouth))

\---

the next night is warmer, but baz still shivers, toes curled and knees brought up to his chest. his stomach is empty, and he can't seem the shake the image of simon's face from his head. (his eyes, blue ((grey?)) his hair, honey coloured and his moles ((two below his left eye, three along his jaw, four spaced across his neck--))

baz doesn't want to think about biting snow, about draining his blood, but he's hungry. (he's always hungry, it seems.)

he decides to close the window-- snow won't notice until the morning anyway, he tells himself, as he climbs out of his bed and over to the window, where the whole of watford is stretched out below, dark and familiar. the air outside is cool, and sweet on baz's tongue; the smell of magic thick but subtle.

he turns back to snow, limbs splayed across his bed, curls flattened across his pillow. he breathes deep and slow, cheeks flushed with heat (and magic) and eyelashes fluttering.

(baz thinks simon snow is a masterpiece. ((he also thinks that he is a tragedy))

with the window closed, he slinks back to his bed before collapsing under the covers. he is empty, inside, (he hasn't fed in a while) and the warm smell of blood from across the room is making his eyes water.

he will not bite simon snow.

baz closes his eyes, and tries to fall asleep, thinking of the moles on scattered like stars over simon's skin, the two below his left eye, the three along his jawline, the four across his neck and the two along his collarbone.

(simon snow is a masterpiece and a tragedy.((baz is just a tragedy.))

baz falls asleep hungry for blood (and simon snow).


End file.
